Sesshomaru Unbound
by Salome Sensei
Summary: Naraku's torment of Sesshomaru doesn't end when he escapes. Neither Inuyasha’s rescue nor Kagura’s seductive assistance can keep the two from their final confrontation. Adults only.
1. Chapter 1

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Author's Note: Decided to infuse some trauma into Sesshomaru's life. Non-consensual misuse of his beautiful body by the evil Naraku (disguised as hottie Lord Hitomi, of course). Don't read it if you don't like nasty, but I promise he'll be ok in the end (no death in my stories! and only "hot" trauma!). Thanks to all who are reviewing my work and encouraging me to write more. You are wonderful for the ego and the writer's energy flow!

Sesshomaru Unbound

Chapter 1

When Sesshomaru awoke, he still lay, face down, in the dirt. He had no idea how long he had slept—or had he been unconscious. His hair and fur was matted with blood, straw, clumps of mud, and the seed of Naraku. His armor was gone and what there was left of his robes was shredded. The dark miasma surrounded him like stifling heat, keeping him weak and dizzy. He did not know how long he had been here, in this dark cell of a room. He had lost track of time, though he had seen through the small window that the sun had risen and set at least twice while he lingered, bound by a magic he could not name but felt in every fiber of his being. It must be the Shikon jewel's power, but how it was being used he could not determine. He could not transform into his more powerful inuyokai form, and, worse, he could not think clearly. Without that damned pall of Naraku's, he knew he could strategize and find a way to break free. Every magic had its counter-magic, and that power-mad demon Naraku would pay. He attempted to rise but dropped back down in a heap. He ached in places he did not even want to think about. All he could do was curse silently, save the little strength he had, try to focus, and wait.

Sesshomaru laughed at this thought, and choked from the dryness in his throat. Wait indeed. He had not told Jaken and Rin where he was going when he left them. He had not let them know he had discovered Naraku's whereabouts after Kagome had blurted out the direction to search in order to save his weak hanyo brother from Tenseiga's blow. But he would not want either of them here in any case. And there was no one else who would care whether he lived or died, just as he wished it.

Sesshomaru would never have guessed Naraku had grown so strong while in hiding, had plotted so well to subdue any and all who approached him. More, he would never have guessed that his display of power would include acts so base. Tenderly, as if it was a wound to Rin's young body, Sesshomaru prodded his memories of the past days here. As best he could, he searched his mind for some clue to his escape in Naraku's boasts and taunts. But he could remember almost nothing specific beyond the repetition of a few crude insults and the recollections of being repeatedly forced to submit to the misuse of his body. Sesshomaru's thoughts flashed unbidden to the touch of the slender fingers of the beautiful Lord whose form Naraku vulgarly assumed as he toyed with Sesshomaru's shining hair and mocked his weak state. Sesshomaru was not directly bound, nor was he entirely paralyzed. But he might as well have been. He could not bite down when his mouth was plundered by Naraku's grotesquely veined cock, nor could he force it from him. He tasted blood in his mouth as his fangs scraped the thick shaft with each upstroke. With impotent fury, Sesshomaru relived in his mind's eye the way it stretched his jaw as Naraku forced it into him and made him gag, over and over, pleasuring himself with zeal at Sesshomaru's expense. Sesshomaru gagged now as he remembered vomiting up the poisonous demon seed that had been forced down his throat. He had not threatened to take Sesshomaru's life; he had not demanded anything from him. He had just claimed control of his body, had his way, and left.

It was the same each time he had appeared in the room. Though Naraku had moved from mouth to anal penetration after the first time. Sesshomaru struggled away from the memories and contemplated the magical trap again. It was like the heaviest sedation, where every move was agony and more effort than a day-long battle with a dozen enemies. Was there no clue at all? But wait—there was something. Vaguely, he remembered feeling Naraku had lifted the miasma the last time he came to take him. "I like my prey livelier," he had said. "I want to feel the fight in you." If Sesshomaru could focus on freeing his mind to search out the source of the magical power that held him while Naraku took control of his body again, perhaps then…

In a flash, Naraku was at his side. Did he know when Sesshomaru regained consciousness? Naraku's elegant foot pressed Sesshomaru hard into the dirt floor beneath him, and he laughed at his victim's feebleness. "You are almost too filthy to touch at this point, 'Lord' Sesshomaru. Perhaps I should just leave you here to rot."

Sesshomaru tuned out the words and concentrated on the aura in the room. Yes, the miasma was lifting. He steeled his mind to determine the source of Naraku's power. He would not fail to discover it, no matter how cruelly Naraku tortured him.

"But no," Naraku continued, unaware of the furious workings of Sesshomaru's mind. "What pleasure would that give me?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Note: Nasty.

Naraku grabbed Sesshomaru's hips and hiked them up, hard. He kicked the passive yokai's legs apart and poised his cock to enter. "No resistance, Sesshomaru? No pathetic attempt to dissuade me? Not even going to beg for oil?" He laughed at his own fantasies. "Perhaps you should try again to transform. I would enjoy fucking a dog. I would gladly suit my form to meet your needs." He dug his nails into his prey and nudged himself deeper between Sesshomaru's cheeks. He sighed. "Perhaps this truly will be the last time I come to you, inu. You hardly merit my attention anymore. I am certain Kagura could clean you up and make some use of you. Yet, I confess I expected more." He groaned and thrust into the clenched orifice, piercing deeply.

Despite himself, Sesshomaru winced. Naraku was pleased: he thrust harder, and allowed a tentacle to grow from his back and find its way into Sesshomaru's mouth. It opened Sesshomaru's jaws with ease and slipped in, then matched the rhythm of Naraku's fiendish cock. Steeling himself against the pain (and he had had far worse), Sesshomaru focused his mind. He shut his eyes and reached out mentally. The miasma was down, but something in the room, somewhere, glowed with an unfamiliar radiance. It was pulsing, a living hardness, like a rock—no, it like a kernel or a seed, and there were small roots spreading from it, knotted into a host body. Naraku's? It was certainly a source of power, but what was it?

As the tentacle gagged him, another reached to wrap around his cock. He was losing concentration. So, the deplorable hanyo was trying to trying to arouse him. Well, let him be disappointed. He let his body go slack. Naraku raged against Sesshomaru's passivity. He pumped harder, swelling his cock to an impossible girth. At the same time, the tentacle around Sesshomaru's flaccid member constricted and the limb down his throat reached deeper, gagged him. He fought the urge to vomit. He grew dizzy. He fought against it with a desperate reserve of strength. He thought of the seed, germinating. He had to get at it, destroy it, somehow.

An idea came to him. He moaned. It was absurd, pointless. But it had its effect. The tentacle withdrew from his throat. He groaned deeper and pushed his hips back to meet the appalling thrusts. The second tentacle loosened, swirled around his cock in more tempting fashion. Sesshomaru willed himself semi-erect; he doubted he manage more. "Yes," Naraku purred, "that's more like it. Show me the real Sesshomaru. The dog—the bitch in heat—that needs to be taken."

Sesshomaru snarled at the words but kept himself in check. "Naraku," he murmured, his voice sounding despicably weak and pathetic, even to his own ears. He forced out two more words, and they burned his throat as he uttered them: "I submit." They were trite and hollow and entirely unmeant, but they were exactly what a power-mad hanyo like Naraku wanted to hear. Sesshomaru felt poisoned by his own utterance, yet there was no other way.

Naraku moaned, full of his own supremacy and twisted lust. "Ah, yes, Sesshomaru—my bitch, my beautiful white beast," he pronounced, hilting himself and raking sharp nails down the inuyokai's back. Sesshomaru could feel the blood begin to well.

"Let me give you more," Sesshomaru offered. "Release your control." The words were vile in his mouth.

Naraku laughed, continuing to grind into his prey, reaching a hand down to feel the thickening cock between his legs. "Shall I unleash you, pet?"

Sesshomaru ground his teeth and waited. He would not beg. But it seemed Naraku was talking to only to himself.

Naraku bent forward and lapped at the streaks of blood, bright against Sesshomaru's pale, if filthy, skin. "I think not. Not today." With that, he withdrew his cock and pushed Sesshomaru forward onto his face. Sesshomaru felt the miasma return. "I will have you cleaned up and fed. I will return, daily, to hear you offer your submission. After a month's time, I may believe it. And then, inu, we shall—"

Naraku's oration was interrupted by a scream of "Sankon Tesso!" just outside the door, which suddenly shattered beneath Inuyasha's claws. Leaping into the room, he unsheathed his Tesuseiga and brandished it at Naraku. From behind him, Kagome aimed a glowing arrow. Naraku laughed. "Rescued by your half-brother, Sesshomaru?" he taunted. "How touching. And how humiliating." With that, he vanished.


	3. Chapter 3

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Chapter 3

Sesshomaru raised his eyes to take in the new horror that replaced the old. Which was worse, Naraku's gloating triumph as his conqueror or Inuyasha's gloating triumph as his rescuer?

"Unforgivable!" Inuyasha bellowed at the ceiling.

The enemy had disappeared, but that would not stop the damnable hanyo from ineffectual proclamation. Sesshomaru dragged himself to a seated position, summoning what strength and pride he could under the circumstances. That fool monk entered the room now, too. Was there no end to this parade of witnesses to his disgrace!

"Ha! You look disgusting," Inuyasha declared over his shoulder. He was still searching the room for signs of Naraku. "Looks like I've rescued you, huh? Guess I'll have to save defeating you for when you're not such an easy target!"

Kagome gasped, aiming her arrow at Sesshomaru. "Inuyasha, look at his chest!"

Inuyasha turned his eyes fully upon his brother. "What the hell is that?"

Miroku approached and stared, exhaling a wise, worried sigh. He motioned Kagome back. "It's a 'moyashi kurai'(1). I've heard about them but never seen one before. It's a form of plant yokai that sends tendrils into a demonic host body and drains it of energy."

"Plant yokai?" Kagome marveled, eyes wide.

Sesshomaru looked down. He saw nothing. Was this another form of humiliation?

Miroku reached into his robe for a spell scroll and held it aloft. "This should take care of it," he declared proudly. He reached forward to place the paper on Sesshomaru's chest.

Sesshomaru grabbed his wrist and held it in a vise-like grip. His claws extended. "Do not touch me, monk."

Inuyasha enjoyed the moment. "Yeah, Miroku, just leave him. Let him figure it out himself. We need to get after Naraku."

Miroku attempted to withdraw his wrist. Even in his dizzy, weakened state, Sesshomaru could still hold onto this pitiful human and keep him from burning a hole in his chest.

Kagome intervened. "Inuyasha, he needs our help. You can't just leave him."

Sesshomaru cringed at these words and released Miroku, who shrugged and stepped back. With effort, Sesshomaru brought himself to a standing position. Once at his full height, he felt he could better intimidate these interlopers and get them to leave. Yes, they had rescued him from his incarceration, but he would handle the rest on his own.

Kagome looked up at him and blushed hard. "Ohhhhh," she gushed, turning away.

Sesshomaru looked down at himself. While there was no "moyashi kurai" on him—just grime and traces of blood, there was also no clothing. He turned away from the ridiculous girl, and grabbed the tattered rags of his yellow sash, which he quickly bound around his hips.

Through downcast eyes shaded by a hand, Kagome urged Miroku and Inuyasha to help Sesshomaru.

Inuyasha scoffed, but complied. "Hey, Sesshomaru, listen up. You have a creepy seed thing on you. I don't know why you can't see it, but let Miroku kill it so we can get out of here."

Sesshomaru looked down at his body once more. Then he reached a hand down and rubbed it across his chest. Nothing.

"Really, it's there," Kagome said brightly, peeking between her fingers, trying to be helpful.

Miroku approached, gingerly, hand outstretched. Sesshomaru glared, but let him press the scrap of paper to his chest. Sesshomaru felt a searing suction, then nothing. He blinked. The haze over his mind and body was gone! Looking down, he saw a writhing kidney-shaped black mass, with vine-like appendages shooting out in all directions.

Kagome raised her bow and pierced the heart of it, and the creature burst and shattered, splattering them all, head to toe, with a thick, black goo. Kagome squealed and ducked. Inuyasha yelped and threw up his hands. Miroku sighed and shook his head.

"Kagome!" Inuyasha whined.

"Well, at least it's dead now," said Kagome, shrugging and attempting a smile.

Sesshomaru stood in stunned silence. This had to be a bad dream. Would he ever wake up?

The trio turned to leave, wiping the mess off themselves as best they could, Inuyasha griping all the way. Kagome turned back from the doorway and waved cheerily to Sesshomaru.

Sesshomaru turned away, attempting to sense the location of his swords. They were not in the castle.

Naraku's mocking laughter was suddenly in his mind. "So easy to deceive, aren't you? So easy to tame. And so easy to lure. I have your weapons, Sesshomaru. Come to me, and we can again enjoy the sheathing of blades."

---

(1) **moyashi kurai**: actually means something like "dark mung bean sprout." I made it up. The idea of Sesshomaru being defeated by a bean sprout appealed to me. Poor Sesshy. I do love him, or I would not do these things to him. Grin.


	4. Chapter 4

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Chapter 4

Sesshomaru did not generally enjoy bathing, but he was sure to clean himself with particular thoroughness and care after he left Naraku's castle. If he could not be rid of the memories of the despicable hanyo's misuse of his body, he could at least remove the traces of his ejaculate and the filth of the confinement room's dirt floor. Shaking the water out his hair and mokomoko, he thought of Inuyasha's one-word edict upon bursting into the chamber: "unforgivable." This once, his hanyo brother was right. Naraku would pay, for the abuse and for his humiliation before Inuyasha. But first Sesshomaru had to recover his weapons.

Sesshomaru's power came back to him remarkably swiftly, and it was good to feel like himself again, give or take a lingering soreness in a place he was loath to name. He waited until nightfall to return to the mountainside clearing where he had left Jaken and Rin. Scouting the site, he waited and watched, impatiently, until young Rin fell asleep. Then he made his presence known to Jaken.

He was barraged by his adherent's rush of obsequious greetings, expressions of dismay at his unexpectedly long absence, and distress over his disheveled (and naked) appearance. Sesshomaru silenced him with a word, and commanded him, in the morning, to take Rin and the dragon she called Ah-un and head to the walled city on the far side of the mountain to purchase him new robes and armor. They should, he demanded, look and fit exactly as his previous ensemble had, causing the little green yokai to panic and hop from foot to foot as he always did in moments of anxiety. Placing his hand on Jaken's head and forcing him to be still, Sesshomaru noted the importance of not waking Rin and added that he should not return until he had fulfilled his master's request.

Sesshomaru walked quietly away, missing his soft footwear, his armor, and, most of all, his swords. He did not see but was nonetheless certain he was followed by a pitying gaze from Jaken for which he would have struck the creature had he actually turned to witness it. Instead, he trod on a ways, found a boulder to rest his back against, ignored its coldness, and worked to bring his mind into a meditative state.

He did not rouse fully for two days. He was centering his energies, reaffirming his imperious spirit, and—were he willing to admit it to himself—healing his bruised ego. With a corner of his mind, the next morning he noted the voices of Jaken and Rin as the child begged to be brought into his presence and Jaken dissuaded her. He did not open his eyes, just breathed deeply and waited. Soon, they flew off on his dragon yokai to do his bidding, and he returned to a deeper meditation.

Nothing disturbed him in the quiet setting for the next day and a half. When he next returned to self-awareness, however, it was not at his own choice. Jaken would not be back for at least a few more days. Resourceful he might be, but it took time to have armor crafted to suit Sesshomaru's lofty standards and particular aesthetic. And he smelled no danger in the form of beast or demon. But something had brought him out of the healing trance-like state into which he had placed himself. In a flash, he knew: Naraku.

_Yes, Sesshomaru. Bring your mind to me. I summon you, my vassal._

Sesshomaru forced a laugh. He was no one's vassal, but he had been unable to detect or resist Naraku's invasion of his consciousness. "Return my weapons, hanyo" he said aloud.

Naraku's hollow laugh pierced his mind, then his words: _When I am ready._

"Do you fear my power so much that you must steal from me? I already know you are coward enough to face me only when I am weakened by plant yokai magic. You will always be only an inferior hanyo, Naraku."

The laughter redoubled. _I am strong enough to read your deepest desires, my beautiful bitch. You cannot reach a state deep enough to prevent me from seeing them, and you lack a will strong enough to prevent me from acting on them._

Sesshomaru attempted to shut his mind to Naraku's thought projection but could not. He filled his consciousness with his burning desire to destroy the reprehensible hanyo, to wield Tokijin once more and feel the pleasure of slicing his head from his shoulders.

_You may indeed wish to kill me, Sesshomaru. But that is not your deepest desire. You have even more powerful cravings. We both know this. Search your soul and you will see them..._

Naraku's voice faded from Sesshomaru's mind, to be replaced with a vivid image of himself, naked, kneeling, shackled at wrist and ankle, his mouth on Naraku's hard, immense cock.


	5. Chapter 5

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Chapter 5

Sesshomaru could not get enough of it, that thick beautiful erection, swelling in his mouth. He wanted his hands free so he could wrap them around it, feel its veined texture, coated in silken smoothness. He would pump it to greater girth as he swallowed it deeper, took it into his throat. But not being able to free his hands was as it should be. He strained against the shackles for a moment, reveling in their solidness, their magical and perfect strength that defeated his own. It was so right to be defeated in this way, forced to submit to the rhythm of the cock he was being fed like the sexual animal he was. He sucked with all the hunger and power within him, felt Naraku's hand in his thick silver mane of hair, pulling it, urging him to service, to suck faster, still faster, and as deep as he could take it. The hips thrust into him, used him, left him dazed and worked harder than he'd ever been, his own cock straining from between his thighs as he kneeled, untouched and unrelieved. And this was also the way it should be. As the cock swelled impossibly and unleashed its fluid reward, Sesshomaru knew himself as a creature driven to serve. There was nothing else, nothing better, nothing more than this. He surrendered to the bliss of the liquid flowing down his throat, filling his mouth, overspilling his swollen lips. Let me drown in your bounty, thought Sesshomaru, now and always, as Naraku's laugh echoed in his mind.

_You see? _came the words after the laughter. _Your desire for me knows no bounds,_ boasted Naraku,_ except those you would willingly have me place upon you. Though I think I would like to have seen what you would do with those hands, Sesshomaru. Bonds are useful on a supplicant, but they limit my pleasures, too._

Sesshomaru opened his eyes with a start. He was again—still—sitting by himself, on a secluded mountainside, leaning against a boulder in the late afternoon's dying light. His mind darted from awareness of his surroundings to acknowledgment that his mouth was watering and his cock throbbing. Surely, Naraku had forced this vision upon him. But, if he had, why did he comment on how he might rather have had it? What game was this, and why did he seem powerless to stop it? Worse: even if Naraku had created or taken part in the creation of the image, why was he at this moment so aroused, erect, and hungry for release?

"Is this the way you would spend the limited life you have left to you, Naraku? Because I swear I will not rest until I defeat you, destroy you, and glory in your demise."

_So furious and so desirable. Your boasts are in vain, Sesshomaru, but no matter. Your desire is mine, and the rest is merely an attempt to deny it to yourself. I feel your body respond. I follow your mind as it flies to manifest your need of me. Show me more, beautiful inuyokai, show me more._

As his words faded, Sesshomaru rose and strode away from the boulder. He needed to walk. He would cool his overheated body and his overwrought mind in the breeze and gain control enough to fight off Naraku's mental invasion. He breathed in deeply of the cool, crisp air and enjoyed its feel on his bare body. The wind was light, a gentle caress that soothed him. His erection flagged, and he was glad of it. He welcomed the feeling of peace that he drew into himself with each inhalation.

He reached a stream and stepped into it. The water rushed gently across his feet and ankles, and he sighed. He sat down in the grass and stretched his legs into the flow. Closing his eyes, he lay back, and found his head cradled in a warm lap. Soft hands stroked his hair back from his forehead, and lips came forward to kiss the crescent moon on his brow. He was safe, warm, treasured, and there was no need to move, even to open his eyes. The lips brushed down his cheek and came to hover, upside-down, just above his own. "Kiss me, my beautiful pet," the lips said. And Sesshomaru obeyed, yielding up his mouth to be feasted upon, while a sheet of soft, thick black hair fell around him.

The connection was bliss. Sesshomaru's lips were parted by his possessor, a tongue slipped gently and softly inside to search and dance, to arouse and titillate, sending tiny shocks throughout his body, electrifying his soul with tender urgency. He met and deepened the kiss, reaching his arm up to thread his fingers through that lustrous mass of hair, to pull his lover in and devour him as he, in turn, was devoured.

After endless moments of their deep embrace, the lips released him and softly and confidently mouthed, "Let me take you now, sweet inu." Sesshomaru nodded once, rose, and put himself on all fours. It felt so right to yield himself, to give over control of his body to one who knew so well how to arouse and use it. He could surrender without losing his pride or power, for he would submit to no one else but this one.

Now on his knees with his hips hiked, his arms stretched then folded before him, and his face on his hands, Sesshomaru felt his lover and master move behind him and begin to knead his flesh. "You have no equal, my Sesshomaru," he purred, and Sesshomaru felt two oiled fingers slip easily and smoothly inside him. Sesshomaru pressed back into them, and was rewarded by their expert stimulation of a sensitive spot within him that made him shudder. The fingers were soon joined by a third, and Sesshomaru felt himself stretched, carefully and fervently, and he basked in the attention. When they withdrew, he knew they would be replaced with an equally slickened cock that would open him wide, enter him, and ride him to ecstasy.

"Tell me what you crave, my demon," said Naraku, wrapping a hand around Sesshomaru's rigid cock and stroking it firmly.

"Please, take me, Naraku-sama," begged Sesshomaru.

And the emptiness was filled with a sharp, exquisite pain that quickly flowed into pleasure, pleasure so great that tears fell from the indomitable Lord Sesshomaru's eyes as his seed rushed forth and the world was lost in a whirlwind of rapture. He knew that he craved this bliss more than life itself. To be taken and adored this way was worth any price...any price at all.

"Stop!" Sesshomaru bellowed, regaining his senses and rising from in front of the boulder, where he still sat. "Release my mind, Naraku, you unspeakable fiend. I do not know how you continue to control me, but I am coming for you now, to claim my weapons and my mind from you—for once and for all!"

_Come, then, my Sesshomaru. Follow my voice and I will guide you—to your desire, and to your doom!_

Sesshomaru rose into the sky, a streak of pale skin and flowing hair, his tears cleansed from his cheeks in the rush of his ascent.


	6. Chapter 6

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Sesshomaru Unbound

Chapter 6

It did not take long to pinpoint the direction of the new stronghold Naraku had projected for himself. Sesshomaru could sense the evil, and Naraku was doing nothing to shield the location from him. He might well be masking his position from everyone else, but Sesshomaru was an exception. Yes, he was being lured. _That despicable spider thinks he will make a fly of me_, Sesshomaru fumed. He growled with determination and rage. He would destroy the degenerate insect and never look back.

As he neared, however, his thoughts were once again muddied.

_How beautiful you will look,_ projected Naraku,_ draped over my lap, oiled and scented and purring as I stroke your thick inu fur and that lush, silken hair. I will reach my hand down to stroke and probe other oiled places as well, my Sesshomaru…my beautiful, lustful dog…_

"I have a more pleasing image for you," Sesshomaru called out as he soared in the direction of the setting sun, and Naraku's lair. "The glow of triumph in my eyes as you dissolve into a simmering mass of hanyo ooze before my claws." But the words felt hollow, the bravado of an unsure opponent in the hands of a master.

As his use of the word "master" truly permeated his consciousness, so did his knowledge that, again, his cock was rising at the thought of not defeating but yielding to his contemptible nemesis. Naraku's laugh filled his already overwrought mind, and Sesshomaru, stripped of both pride and clothing, fell to earth in a heap. His heart pounded and he reached a hand up to clutch at his chest, to rip out the offending organ that kept him alive and in such torment. Let him die at his own hand rather than submit to his body's betrayal and Naraku's filthy desires.

As he clawed at himself, tearing at the lean flesh of his pale frame, he suddenly felt something that should not have been there. A tiny tendril, rubbery and pliant, slithered out of his reach as he attempted to grasp it. He looked down at himself and saw nothing but his own raked and bloodied body, but when he closed his eyes and sought it out with his mind, his fingertips soon found it again. The slender strand thrashed and snaked away from his grasp, but it was rooted within him, twined into his flesh, so he at last could take hold of it and rip it from him. The pain was searing, but Sesshomaru welcomed it. It was real, and he knew how to deal with it.

So, the moyashi kurai had not been completely removed from his body, or it had sent some separate shoot into him as it was removed. No matter. There would be time later to research this venomous plant that Naraku had somehow used to control him and, worse, to cause him to despair. As he tossed the writhing rootlet onto a nearby rock then reached down and slashed it to bits with his claws, Sesshomaru searched his mind for Naraku's invasive presence. It was gone. With increasing confidence, he brought the image of Naraku's cock to mind. It brought nothing but loathing. His own mouth on that erection? He fought the urge to wretch. Good. His lips stretched into a feral grin. He was himself again.

Taking to the air, he wondered if Naraku's den would disappear before he could reach it. Now that the vile coward could not touch his mind, he would conclude that the remainder of the plant yokai had been removed, and would no doubt flee. But he had Sesshomaru's weapons, and Sesshomaru wanted them—and revenge—_now_.

Soon, he sited Naraku's miasma in the air above a blighted mountain range. So, his worthless foe had not fled. He vaulted down into the courtyard, unhindered by any barrier. Landing, he called to his tormentor: "Naraku! Show yourself."

A mocking chuckle came from within the building, but it was not Naraku's. It was a woman's laugh: Kagura's. Her voice floated out to him on the air: "Sesshomaru, you arrive in such a state! Wounded…and without garment. Let us see how I may help you with that condition." With the speed of the wind, Kagura's Dance of Blades sent arcing shards at Sesshomaru, and he blocked them neatly with the energy attack of Toxic Flower Claw. Kagura laughed again and ceased her attack. She appeared in the doorway, a travesty of feminine humility in her ornate kimono and the fans she held before her. "Naraku regrets he cannot be here to greet you, Lord Sesshomaru. But I know where your weapons are. Will you convince me to risk Naraku's displeasure and return them to you?" Her fan hovered teasingly before her rosebud mouth.

"I can sense them within the manor, Kagura. I will simply destroy you and find them myself," Sesshomaru said evenly. He did not take his eyes off hers and prepared to defend himself against her wind attacks.

Instead, she laughed once more, tucking her fans into her obi and walking down the steps toward her adversary. "Let us be allies, Sesshomaru. You know I wish to free myself from Naraku's control. He wishes me to make you suffer, by fighting you and keeping your swords from you, but there is more." She came to stand before him, scant inches from his naked body, looking up into his impassive golden eyes. "Naraku desires you, inuyokai," she said softly, reaching a hand up to stroke the mokomoko on his shoulder. "He wishes to possess you. More even than having you defeat me and regain your weaponry, he deplores the thought of you desiring anyone but him." Her cherry-red eyes burned into his. "Desire me, Sesshomaru, and help me to defeat him."


	7. Chapter 7

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Sesshomaru Unbound

Author's Note: Apologies for letting this one sit almost a month without update. Punish me by throwing me to Lord Sesshomaru—if he ever gets out of the mess I'm writing him into.

Chapter 7

Sesshomaru stood, inhumanly still, permitting Kagura's touch while she made her fascinating offer. But not a second longer. 

"Desire you?" he replied coolly, grabbing her wrist tightly to remove her stroking fingers from the sensitive fur and flesh at his shoulder. He kept his gaze upon her face as he twisted her arm around and back until she whimpered. "What does it take to arouse your desire, Kagura?" Tightening her arm further behind her and pulling up sharply, he felt her wince in his grasp. Her eyes widened and her lips parted of their own accord. Sesshomaru's face remained impassive, but he felt his pulse quicken, as if for battle. He brought his mouth to Kagura's delicate, pointed ear and licked along its edge, then bit down, hard. She moaned.

Pulling her body tightly to his by her twisted arm, he felt the soft, thick fabric of her multi-layered kimono rustle between them. So vulnerable was she to Naraku's use that she maintained the self-delusion of protection by her triple-thick raiment, ranged attacks, and viper's tongue. Sesshomaru would penetrate that shell, just as she had invited. And when she was even more vulnerable to him than to Naraku, he would take his weapons back and unleash Tokijin's wrath upon her. In death, she would be freed from Naraku's control. And Naraku, in losing her, would have the first a taste of the vengeance Sesshomaru had in store for him.

Releasing her ear from his teeth, he observed, "You reek of Naraku. Someone should cover up that hanyo stench." He let go her arm, then pushed her back until she toppled onto the wooden steps. As she fell, he threw his body over hers and kissed her roughly. His tongue invaded and plundered her mouth as his fangs drew droplets of blood from the insides of her soft lips. She yielded without hesitation. He knew she could not breathe as long as he kept her mouth sealed with his, so he prolonged it for long, silent moments. 

When he finally broke the kiss, his gaze was so blank that it was impossible to gauge the degree of pleasure he got from seeing Kagura gasp for air. Rising to crouch over her, he raised his claws and easily rent the three layers of her kimono from throat to ankle. "Is this what you want?" he menaced. Kagura purred her assent as the end of Sesshomaru's mokomoko softly rose to wrap around her slender throat. "Take me," she begged in a strangled voice, parting her thighs to welcome a new master.

Erect with power if not with passion, Sesshomaru deftly turned Kagura onto her knees and poised himself to enter. Releasing her throat and digging his nails into her small, pale hips, he thrust forward, hilting himself within her at a single stroke. She cried out with pleasure and pain. Sesshomaru bent forward and took the nape of her neck in his sharp teeth and rode her hard. He sent his mokomoko's thick, sensuous length to bind their torsos together and relished its softness as much as Kagura's tightness. She moaned loudly and called out his name. He drove into her body with a fierce, merciless precision. His cock swelled inside her as his balls slapped against her with each stroke. He growled as predatory hunger drove him on. The small, pliant body beneath him matched his every thrust, arching and pressing back into him as the fur around them caressed and teased his flesh.

Sooner than he had expected, her desire built to climax. She begged for release, and he realized in a flash that Naraku was unlikely to have allowed her satisfaction. Though her piteous cries did not have the power to move him, neither did they inspire callousness. That was Naraku's sport. He drove her on until she reached her peak, then watched her body convulse in pleasure while the muscles around his shaft contracted and aroused him further. 

Swiftly, however, he withdrew, unwrapping the fur from around them both and freeing his cock before he yielded more than he should. He wanted his wits about him. Kagura turned onto her side and lay, panting. He rose and stood, looking down at her. Where his nails had bit into the flesh of her hips, there were tiny red crescents, and his teeth had drawn blood at the back of her neck. He felt a desire to draw his tongue slowly across the marks, but he restrained himself. It was time to reclaim his weapons and end this game.

"Kagura," he summoned. She came to stand beside him, gathering her garments around her as best she could and staring at his half-erect cock, which was only partially covered by the mokomoko loosely wrapped around him.

"Are your desires so limited?" she inquired. "There are many things we might do to unleash them together, Sesshomaru." She put a gentle hand to his cheek.

"Right now, my desire is to regain my weapons," he replied, ignoring her caress. "And then, to avenge myself upon Naraku. Do you intend to help me, or are you as treacherous as your sire?"

Kagura pouted, then stepped forward. Rising up on her toes, she brought Sesshomaru's mouth down for a brief, soft kiss. "Come, let us go inside. With suitable attire and your swords once again in your hands, Lord Sesshomaru, I am certain you will feel more yourself. And then we will see who can be trusted."


	8. Chapter 8

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Sesshomaru Unbound

Author's Confession: In rereading the story to write this new chapter, I confess that I found myself fixated on Chapter 5. I know I wrote it. But I can't help it. Passionate, lustful, uke Sesshomaru is just so damned hot. Yielding that way. Just temporarily. Only because he's mind-controlled. I mean that upside-down kiss then turning onto all-fours and getting taken like the dog he is. Just DAMN. Ok, I'm done now. Time for Seme Sesshy. /insert action hero theme music here/

Chapter 8

He would rather have mounted her again than suffer another gentle touch from her lips or her fingertips. But he would say nothing, show nothing. As he was a useful tool for her lonely, dependent existence (to relieve loneliness, to end her dependence by ending Naraku's life), so she was useful to him—that is, if she truly did plan to return his weapons. He had his doubts, though they remained unstated and unindicated. As she pulled her sliced kimonos around herself as best she could, Sesshomaru silently followed her up the steps and into the castle. That he remained undressed no longer concerned him. The mokomoko left him warm enough. And though he preferred the power he felt when clothed and armored, he was becoming used to this raw exposure. His claws were still potent weapons, and soon enough he would have Tokijin in his hands, as well as that accursed Tenseiga which he could neither relish nor discard. His only regret at the moment was that his encounter with Kagura had left him with the stench of Naraku in his nostrils. Fortunately, she lacked the cloying denseness of Naraku or he suspected he'd not have been able to become erect enough to perform. Damn that depraved hanyo: ending his existence might be too kind.

Kagura led Sesshomaru directly to his weapons, a pleasant surprise. Even more remarkably, perhaps, a set of garments matching those he favored lay, neatly folded, beside them. Even a copy of his shoulder armor and obi were there. All smelled as it should: nothing appeared to be tainted, poisoned, or enchanted. "Why such generosity from Naraku?" Sesshomaru wondered aloud.

"The clothing is my gift, Sesshomaru," Kagura replied. "Please excuse me for a moment. I, too, would like to be properly attired." She bowed slightly and left the room.

Sesshomaru kept his guard up as he dressed and armed himself. The weight of his swords, especially, felt right on his body. He stroked the pommels and felt their magic radiate.

Kagura's return interrupted his reunion. "So, Lord of the Western Lands, how shall we plan together to defeat Naraku?"

There was something false in her speech, though he was not certain precisely what it was. As he spoke, he tried to detect what had changed in her demeanor. "It has always been my intention to destroy Naraku, Kagura. If you can assist my efforts, do so. I can promise you he will not gain control of my mind or my body again. Beyond this, my plan is only to take every opportunity to weaken and defeat him." He gripped Tokijin's handle firmly, his eyes on Kagura's.

"Yes," said Kagura suddenly, as if in response to a question he had asked. She eyed his sword. "That might anger Naraku enough to draw him out."

Ah, so that was what he sensed. Kagura knew he intended to kill her. He withdrew Tokijin and leapt at his target. She did not move. He checked his swing as the blade touched her throat. He felt her holding her breath, though she did not close her eyes. He withdrew and resheathed the sword. No: if this was her plan, he would not take part in it. He did not live to fulfill anyone's destiny but his own. He turned to leave.

Kagura's breath left her in a rush. She laughed. "You surprise me, Sesshomaru. I thought you would see it through. Vengeance and provocation of Naraku, and perhaps the only freedom I will ever know. All in one slash of your sword." She paused, then resumed in a firm, proud voice. "Do not pity me, yokai."

Without looking back, Sesshomaru replied: "I pity no one. We each have our own path to tread. Mine does not require ending your life. At least not today. I am certain we will meet again, Kagura." He walked out of the castle and launched himself into the sky. He felt again the hilts of his swords and smiled to himself. The next life he took would be Naraku's.

...

End Note: Sorry this one is so short. I really needed to wrap things up with Kagura to get to the Sesshomaru vs. Naraku smackdown. Some seriously delicious taunting of Sesshy forthcoming. But then he'll get to hack Naraku to bits…however temporarily. But you knew that.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: I rushed the ending. Hence, I have added this new chapter, which replaces 9. That means former Chapter 9 is now Chapter 10.

Chapter 9

Not more than seven turnings of the moon passed before Naraku's scent was once again filling Sesshomaru's nostrils with its foul demand for attention. There was no question that Sesshomaru was up for any challenge the hanyo abomination might bring, but he had not expected that he would bring it to him. It was the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen, and Sesshomaru moved quickly to keep his nemesis from getting any closer to those in his protection. Jaken and Rin slept peacefully, exactly as he would have it.

Arriving in the nearby glade from which Naraku's stench emanated, Sesshomaru noted how slowly his enemy was advancing. Moving forward with smooth, elegant steps, he suddenly came not upon Naraku but Kagura. He was surprised not only by the strength of her scent but also by her monstrous appearance. Her kimonos were in tatters, her hair hung in clumps and strands around her face, but most prominent of all was the blood. She was awash in it, spattered from head to foot. She bled from multiple slash wounds and punctures. Sesshomaru marveled that she could still walk. Then, as if in answer to his question, she dropped to the ground before him, insensible.

Sesshomaru looked down upon the crumpled form, wondering whether it was still a body or now a corpse. Because she lacked a heart, he did not know precisely how he would tell. How much blood could a detachment from Naraku's composite hanyo self lose before one could cease to call it living? The simplest answer was to walk away. He doubted Tenseiga would be useful in this circumstance, and he was uninterested in finding out. Firstly, the accursed inheritance seemed to have the ability to render him responsible for the one whose life he returned. Kagura already sought more connection to him than he desired. Secondly, he doubted the sorceress would wish to be resurrected. At their last encounter, she had made plain that death was an acceptable form of freedom to her. He found the weakness in such a thought abhorrent, but he was the powerful son of daiyokai parents not a pseudo-offspring of a weak, perverse half-demon.

He assumed that if she truly was dead, she would soon dissolve or degenerate in some fashion. He watched dispassionately. And he also pondered this strange situation. Appearances suggested that it was Naraku himself who had done this to his vessel. She reeked of him, more than usually so. And it seemed logical that he had discovered her treachery. Yet, assuming these things to be true, why had he not simply dispatched her in a less bloodthirsty manner? Hands-on torture was not so much his style as getting others to do such work or using less conventional means. He had only to destroy her heart, Sesshomaru knew, to end her existence.

Kagura remained inert, and he allowed himself a moment of reflection. How would it be to live so dependent an existence? He recalled the desperation in her eyes at their last meeting, though he could also remember previous encounters, when she was his foe. There was a confidence in her, a pride that seemed somehow paradoxically to come from her role as Naraku's follower. Did she envision herself as his "champion" then? Perhaps so. Unbidden, words and images from his recent past flew into Sesshomaru's mind: crouching…waiting to be filled…"You have no equal, my Sesshomaru…." That voice: luring, praising, coaxing, seducing. Did Naraku talk this way to Kagura? Did he need to?

His cock jumped in his robes. He ground his teeth and shook the image from his mind. It was all false, all implanted. His desires were his to control, and he was no Kagura, to be seduced by delusions of empowerment through servitude. As he suppressed the growl building in his throat, he heard Kagura's whimper. She was not dead. Without further thought, he hefted her over his shoulder. She groaned but did not stir.

Moving swiftly, they soon arrived at a nearby spring. He placed Kagura in the water and carefully removed the shredded remains of her garments. Once cleansed, he saw that her wounds were not lethal, but substantial. What had happened, and why had she come to him? Kagura's voice interrupted his thoughts: "I have fled Naraku. I will not go back. He can kill me whenever he wishes, but for the time left me, I wish to serve you, Lord of the Western Lands." Her eyes blazed with a determination he had not seen there before. It compelled him.

As he lifted her from the water and laid her on the soft ground nearby, he acknowledged that this was not a rational decision, yet neither was it emotional. Instinct perhaps described his decision best, and Sesshomaru trusted his instincts. At least he had before Naraku infested his body and controlled his mind. But that was past now and it was time to return to confidence in his inuyokai nature. An ability to explain one's decisions did not make them wise. Kagura shivered. "I will bring you garments," he said, recognizing that the role of protector was not unpleasant to him, especially as this was no child. Soon, she could not only care for herself but perhaps even assist his efforts. He wondered why he had not thought before of stealing her heart from Naraku.

There was no question but that a strong sense of purpose fueled the soul of Sesshomaru. And having Kagura did inspire him. Here was something that had fully belonged to Naraku and would now be his. He would use her well, to enhance his power and defeat his adversary. Though he neither pitied nor truly desired her, it was simply right to claim her now.

As he took a step away from her, Kagura's hand reached out and grasped the end of his mokomoko. "Do not leave me, my Lord," she begged. He turned back, slipping his sensitive yokai organ from her grip. She continued: "He may take me while you are gone. Please do not go." Her voice grew softer. "I can feel my heart in his hand even now. He knows I am here with you. I want him to know. You, more than most, know how truly cruel he can be. He used me as he used you, Sesshomaru-sama. Many, many times. But he will not have me again. Wipe his scent from me, inuyokai. Purify me of his stain." She opened her arms to invite Sesshomaru in.

Despite himself, Sesshomaru was tempted. Taking Kagura now was a way to flaunt his power over Naraku, to reclaim his dominance and control. It was beneath him to yield to such indirect methods, but this was also a way to erase the images that still came to him, unbidden, in the night. Remembered realities of being taken, unable to move. Remembered fantasies of his mouth on that foul hanyo cock. This time, Kagura was not someone to be appeased to regain his weapons and move forward. Now she was a direct link to Naraku, to causing Naraku to feel helpless. Let him kill her if he would, but before he did so, let him feel Sesshomaru's power and know himself helpless to weaken it.

He grew erect at these thoughts and disrobed with graceful speed. Kagura looked up at him, a small smile on her face, her wounded body delicate in the moonlight. "Take me, Sesshomaru-sama," she breathed as he brought his lithe body over hers. She embraced him tightly and breathed against his chest as he slipped between her damp thighs. He entered her easily, smoothly, her body welcoming his with a remarkably lush warmth. She moaned as he rode her, matching his thrusts as best she could in her weakened condition. Sesshomaru thrilled to the combined pleasure of a body he had not remembered being so well suited to his needs and the knowledge that even as his physical arousal grew, so Naraku's power diminished. Yes, each plunge into Kagura's sweet, wet core brought him closer to defeating Naraku. The fiend's name became a chant in his mind as he drove on and on. Though he felt her nails in his back, Kagura's own pleasure, indeed her life itself, fell beneath his consideration as his climax rushed upon him. Thus, as he swelled and his muscles locked in preparation for release, he could barely hear her mutter, "Yes, my bitch, my sweet inu whore, take me into the heart of your need…"

Sesshomaru rose up and withdrew from the false body, unable to stop the flow of his seed from pouring forth. It splashed onto the form that now blackened and dissolved before his eyes, leaving only a demon puppet doll behind. Sesshomaru crushed the mud doll with his foot as he howled his rage. He cursed himself for not recognizing the falseness of Kagura's body. He fumed at not knowing it was a golem, allowing Naraku to manipulate him from a cowardly distance. And he seethed at having let what Naraku had already done to him inspire further rash decisions. How could he so willingly and foolishly have given up even more of his power than that which Naraku already foully stolen?

He turned up his face and roared into the pre-dawn sky: "Show yourself, Naraku. Craven hanyo, vengeance will be mine!" His words boomed forth, echoing off the mountains that surrounded him. His voice was filled with such uncharacteristic emotion, it was unrecognizable to his own ears.


	10. Chapter 10

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Sesshomaru Unbound

Author's Note: This is a lightly revised version of the final chapter. It is now called Chapter 10 because I added another chapter after 8 to flesh out events between the return of Sesshomaru's weapons and his battle with Naraku. I feel much better about the story now. Hope it pleases.

Chapter 10

It would only take one more strike from Tokijin. The sword vibrated with the power of the fangs from which it was forged. What could be more appropriate than destroying Naraku with a sword made from Goshinki, his own "offspring"? He could feel the sword's desire to reunite with Naraku's bubbling mass of flesh. And so it would, by slicing through and destroying it. At last. Naraku was already in pieces, chunks of black ooze and spider legs spread around the emptied compound of his castle. One final blow, bisecting the remains of the mockery of a human body he wore, and Naraku would be finished.

Getting to this moment had been, as most things were, primarily a matter of patience. Sesshomaru was skilled at being patient, extraordinarily skilled. Those who sought power as he did and faced adversaries as dangerous as he did had to learn self-control as well as the control of others. It had been more than a full cycle of the moon since he had been imprisoned by Naraku, since his encounter with the golem that mimicked Kagura's body. And there had, between that night and this, been no sign of either. Naraku had withdrawn, yet again, to marshal his feeble and perverse hanyo powers, or perhaps just to torment Sesshomaru further. The possibility of such irrational pettiness did not escape the inuyokai lord.

He had not forgotten—would never forget—the acts his body and mind had been subjected to. But he did not flinch when he remembered struggling against paralysis as Naraku held him by the hips and penetrated him. He did not try to escape the memory of the hanyo's foul attempts at seduction, to convince him that he craved what was being done to him. He did not live a life so small that emotions could control it. His mind was strong, had always been so. Though he regretted the unexpected weakness that had allowed the poisonous plant yokai to invade him and that encouraged him to take the body that turned out to be but a puppet doll, his commitment to destroying Naraku long predated those experiences. The past must be the past. All that mattered was the fact of his survival—and a future that would bring him vengeance.

He raised his sword as Naraku laughed. Always, the pompous half-demon betrayed his insecurity with his absurd chuckling. Though Sesshomaru occasionally scoffed at an enemy, it came from deep knowledge of that opponent's weakness and his own pleasure in using the power that his daiyokai parents had given him as their truest legacy. It was not this childish guffaw that showed only how desperate and pathetic he truly was.

Laughter was always the way Naraku began his battles as well. Two days ago, that laughter had beckoned Sesshomaru, followed him as he brought Rin and Jaken to the Western Lands, so Rin might not again be taken hostage. He knew Kagura sought her freedom, but, should Naraku command it, she would not hesitate to take or destroy what was his. Of course, she would not flee Naraku if she could not be sure she would live; he should have known that. But again, he moved forward. He would not risk her treacherous manipulation. He knew Naraku would be displeased that he delayed facing him. Let it be so. His laughter was followed by his stench—thick, cloying, excessive, like everything about him. Well, let him befoul the whole world with his odor: Naraku could no longer reach into the inuyokai's mind or control it, and it was infuriating to him. Hence, he had sent his puppet. But Sesshomaru would not be fooled again. And the son of the Great Dog Demon was not one to be summoned like a child, a slave, or a lover. He would come and defeat Naraku in his own time.

Having claimed that time and fought a battle that had been surprising in its fierceness and brevity, Sesshomaru was ready to end it. Naraku had met him before his castle, unfurled his grotesque body in his usual undulating, oozing fashion, and been hacked and sliced into more parts than Sesshomaru cared to count. His mention of their last "intimate contact" would not cause him to act in haste. No, he fought with total concentration. And he was careful not to be trapped within a circle of these bits as he once had before. He kept to the air, making diving slashes and stabs, that Naraku deflected or fell prey to, in seemingly random fashion. Perhaps he was simply idiotic enough to think Sesshomaru would be kept offguard by remembrance of the torture Naraku had committed upon him. If so, more fool he.

As Sesshomaru poised himself for the final strike, Naraku ceased his laughter and spoke. "Sesshomaru," the languid mouth of Lord Hitomi pronounced, "I am gratified to have produced such passion in you. Yet, before you commit yourself to my destruction, allow me to pose a question."

Sesshomaru paused, his face its usual inscrutable mask. Naraku's body was too far gone now to pose any threat, and he sensed nothing else of concern in the area. He waited.

"When you destroy me, will you be slaying an enemy for his evils, or will you be silencing that part of yourself that so deeply craved every moment of what I gave you?"

Sesshomaru snarled and then plunged.

"Yes, kill me, my sweet inuyokai," Naraku murmured as the sword bisected the facsimile of Hitomi's upper body, from the crown of the head through his torn torso, and reduced Naraku to a pile of foaming blackness at Sesshomaru's feet. It hissed and sizzled for long moments, exuding poisonous vapors that encouraged the inuyokai to rise into the air above it. Yet, he did not leave until the mass had become passive, liquid, inert.

As he beheld from above the dissolving remains of the carnage he had so eagerly wrought, Sesshomaru considered Naraku's obscene, self-deluded question. Could the hanyo truly have convinced himself that he knew even the most superficial level of Sesshomaru's motives or desires? Was there anything in word or deed that he had done to encourage such conviction? Sheathing Tokijin and heading westward, Sesshomaru knew he would have to contemplate such possibilities. And more: he would have to ponder whether posing his question was Naraku's true motive for this battle and his own defeat—however temporary it might be.

-end-


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